by Autumn Dawn
Quickly she moved from room to room, putting her clothes and Elizabeth's into the bags. Food went into two large cardboard boxes and the portable cooler, before she went to gather up the baby's toys.
She would have to put Elizabeth in the car before she could strip and dismantle her crib. She stared down at the snuffling baby, the golden halo of curls and fat cheeks. She hated to drag her from the security of what had been her home for the last weeks back into a life of uncertainty and anxiety, but she had no choice. If life on the road was what it took to keep Elizabeth alive, that was what they would do.
* * * *
Nathan uttered a brief and succinct curse when Rowan told him that Camille had left about fifteen minutes before. He turned to go but Rowan laid a gentle hand on his arm.
"Take two minutes,” she said. “Talk to me."
"I haven't got two minutes,” he said distractedly, inching toward the door. “I have to go. She could already be gone, but the quicker I get there the more chance I have of stopping her."
"Why? To arrest her?” Rowan raised an eyebrow.
"No! Of course not. Is that what she said?"
"Well, she did mention handcuffs."
Nathan felt appalled and then desperate. He thumped his fist against the door frame. “What a fucking mess!"
"Come on.” Rowan hustled him through to the courtyard where she and Max were having a quiet nightcap. Max's alcoholic and Rowan's not.
"Beer?” Max asked, standing to get another bottle.
God, he needed a drink, but he needed a clear head more. “Uh, no. Better not. Had one earlier.” Or half a one anyway. He'd left the rest sitting on the kitchen table when he realized exactly what he'd said and done, and had dashed out of the house only to find Camille reversing his car out of the driveway. By the time he'd dragged shoes on and walked into town, she'd been gone nearly twenty minutes.
He could have called one of his men to pick him up but it would have taken the same amount of time, and he didn't relish trying to explain what the hell was going on. He didn't even want to tell Rowan what a bloody fool he'd been though he suspected she already knew.
"She isn't married,” he blurted out. “She's running from her brother-in-law. Elizabeth is his kid.” He eyed Rowan but she didn't say anything and didn't look in the slightest bit shocked.
He narrowed his eyes. “You knew!"
Rowan nodded. I know some of it, suspect other things. “So, did she tell you why?"
"I.... “Nathan thought back. “She said ... Christ, I don't know. She sounded scared, but all I could think of was that she'd set me up. She'd slept with me thinking I would get her off a kidnapping charge."
"Is that what you think?"
"No!” He stood. “I was just so screwed up worrying whether she was going back to her ‘husband', all the time thinking she was the victim, and then suddenly she's not married and she's taken the guy's kid. And I was the sucker who was going to clean up the mess for her."
"She didn't want to come to you."
"I know. She's been wary of authority from the start, and now she has good reason,” said Nathan bitterly.
"It's true she didn't trust you completely, but that was because she didn't know you. But she was also worried about compromising you,” Rowan said gently. “I was the one who said that you would be able to see that right and wrong aren't always clear cut."
"And I didn't even give her a chance to explain,” said Nathan bitterly. “I just jumped right in and ... shit!"
Max came over to him and slapped him on the shoulder. “Don't beat yourself up too badly, mate. Even the best of us have been known to make idiots of ourselves over women.” He looked at Rowan.
Nathan laughed reluctantly. “I have to go and make it right—if I can."
Rowan nodded. “Whatever you do, don't let her run. She has to stand up to him and she has to do it here."
Nathan was already out the door and running for his car.
* * * *
Camille hoisted the bag of toys and opened the front door. And screamed.
Nathan looked nearly as shocked, his hand outstretched to knock. They stood frozen as if by some spell until the shrill ring of the telephone in the hall jerked them into consciousness.
Camille thought about slamming the door shut before Nathan could step inside, but from the look on his face, he'd probably just kick the door down. To give herself time to think, she went to pick up the phone. Hesitated. It was probably Rowan phoning to check if she was all right. Maybe not. Her hand hovered over the receiver. Three times it rang, four, five. What if there was nothing but a dial tone at the other end like the other time.
She tensed as Nathan reached around her to pick it up. “Hello? Hello?” She heard his voice, low, before he replaced the receiver. She couldn't stop the shiver that ran through her body. Another silent call.
"Camille,” he said quietly. She met his questioning eyes for a second and looked away, rubbing her shoulders as though to ward off a chill. But it was the chill of fear rather than temperature.
"I'm not going to the station with you,” she said.
"Forget that.” He made a motion with his hand. “I was talking out of my ass. I'm sorry."
"I have to leave."
He shook his head. “Forget that, too.” He nodded at the phone. “Just silence on the other end, but someone was there.” He looked at her sharply. “That's not the first phone call you've had like that, is it?"
She put the bag of toys down. “No."
"Your brother-in-law?"
She nodded. “I'm certain he knows we're here. We can't stay.” She walked into the kitchen and out onto the veranda, collecting the last few odds and ends. Nathan followed her out, taking the baby blanket and stuffed bear from her arms and putting them down on the bench. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into the warmth of his body. His clean, woodsy man-scent surrounded her as he buried his face in her hair.
"I have to leave, Nathan.” She pulled away from him. “I don't know if I'll be back."
"No.” His voice was dark, thick.
"Nathan—"
"I won't let you go.” His arms tightened around her and unconsciously she reached out to stroke his arm. “Tell me everything. If you tell me exactly what's going on here, I'll know what to do. Right now I'm floundering in the fucking dark.” His voice was brutal.
"He killed my sister,” she said starkly.
"Verity?"
"Did Rowan...."
"Noelene mentioned her today at the fair."
Camille shook her head. “I have no proof, nothing except.... “She halted. Except she'd seen it. Not that any court would ever accept her “vision” as fact.
"What?"
Well, she'd told him she was a kidnapper, he might as well know she was clairvoyant, too. She took a deep breath.
"I saw him kill her. Or I saw a man pushing her from the balcony of their house. I didn't see his face, only a hand. But it was him."
"You were there?"
She shook her head. “I see things. When people I know are very happy, sad, frightened or frustrated ... they open up and I can see them from a distance. I was in Sydney one evening last month and I saw it happen, saw her fall from a balcony of her house in Melbourne. The coroner ruled it was suicide."
"You said ‘fell'. How can you be so sure he killed her. Maybe—"
"It was him.” She frowned, thinking back, trying to focus on that awful flash of realization, and concentrate on the killer, rather than her sister. She held the image and zoomed in. “He was wearing a gold wedding band, one that matched Verity's."
"Did you tell anyone of your suspicions?"
"What could I say? My sister's husband murdered her but I had a spooky episode and saw it all happen? All I could think about was keeping Elizabeth from him. Verity had brought her to me just before she died. After ... Lord came to my flat ... demanded I return her and I refused. He grabbed me.” She put her hands to her neck. “I was lucky th
at my neighbor was just returning from work and interrupted him. I just packed Elizabeth up and left."
"Christ!” He was silent for a minute. “You knew I'd been here the day when you were out. Did you...."
She nodded. “I needed cash and I wanted to get it somewhere far away from here. I'd got into the habit of placing a small pebble on the gate so I would know if anyone had come to the house while I was out. Sort of a warning system. That night I realized the pebble was missing and then ... I saw you in my mind's eye.” She thought about the other time she'd seen him and blushed. Maybe she would keep that little episode to herself.
He nodded, seeming to accept her explanation with surprising calmness.
"This is the time to call the men in white coats, if that's what you're thinking,” she ventured.
Nathan produced a half smile. “Rowan said from the beginning that you were special. You know that she considers herself a practicing witch. Last year, stuff happened that.... “He spread his arms. “I can't explain it but I know things happened that are beyond my ability to explain."
"Yes.” She swayed slightly, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Rowan told me that we're distantly related."
She felt Nathan close his arms around her again. “Come on, it's late and it's been a helluva day, and tomorrow, well.... “He gave a rueful laugh. “Tomorrow we have to work out what the hell to do."
Camille liked the way he said “we". With tacit acceptance that no one was going anywhere tonight, she let him lead her into the bathroom, where he watched as she brushed her teeth and washed her face, and then followed her into Elizabeth's room where she dropped a kiss on the baby's head and checked the monitor was on.
She undressed and slid into bed while Nathan locked up their cars and the house. Seconds later he was back, undressing silently in the dark. She snuggled into his embrace as he got into bed alongside her and wondered what his thoughts were on what she'd told him. It sounded outrageous even to her, and she was living it! She wanted to ask him why he was here. Because he wanted to be or because he thought it was the right thing to do? And then she decided that right now it didn't matter. He was here and all the questions, his and hers, could wait until the morning.
* * * *
Camille struggled up from under a thick blanket of sleep as she heard a thin, reedy cry break the silence of early morning. Like an automaton, she lifted her head drowsily from the pillow and started to throw back the covers to go to Elizabeth.
She felt a warm hand press her shoulder and realized Nathan was already up.
"I'll go,” he said.
"You can't. She wants a bottle, and probably a clean diaper.” Camille moaned. She didn't want to get up after the most relaxed night's sleep she'd had for weeks.
"I have nephews and nieces. I can change a diaper. Are her bottles in the fridge?"
"Yes. No! I put everything from the fridge in the cooler, last night. It's in the car."
"It's okay, I brought everything in again."
"Thanks.” She was drifting off again. “She'll drink it cold."
She watched his shadowy figure walk to the door, smiling as the light from the hallway illuminated his tight buttocks. A second later, she was asleep again.
* * * *
Elizabeth's escalating cry shut off sharply at Nathan's low murmur. The baby stared up at him, as though confused by his appearance. He tucked her into the crook of his arm and retrieved her bottle from the fridge. She took hold of it eagerly, her eyes never leaving his face, as he padded back into her room and dropped into the old rocking chair. He'd fed his sisters’ children when they'd been babies, but there had always been other people around. In the quiet night hours, there was a greater sense of intimacy. He could almost imagine that Elizabeth was his own child.
Elizabeth fell asleep halfway through her feed, but he sat holding her for a while longer, wondering what the future held for all of them—he, Camille and the baby. Finally, with a sigh, he rose and tucked Elizabeth back in her crib. Camille was hugging his pillow when he returned, but she shifted over with a murmur as Nathan slid in beside her. He brushed a hand down her satiny hip
She muttered something under her breath and moved away from his chilly hands. But he just reached out and pulled her back toward him, rubbing his morning erection against her until she began to moan.
"I'm just trying to get warm,” he whispered. “Am I making you hot, too?"
Camille's eyes flickered and opened as she moved against him. “Yes,” she murmured as his head came down to meet hers in a searing kiss. “Very hot."
She lay on her back looking up at him, her eyes shining with passion. Her hands lay slightly furled against the pillow at either side of her head. Nathan protected her and then brought his body to rest on hers, his hips pushing between her thighs as though it were his natural resting place. She curled her legs around his hips as he sank into her.
Nathan moved slowly inside her, his body surging back and forth like the tide. He kissed her, his tongue moving in her mouth as his cock echoed the rhythm in the dark, wet depths of her. He felt as though they were sealing with a gentle passion what had begun yesterday in his bedroom in a blaze of heat and raw sexual desire.
He saw her eyes flutter shut as her peak approached, and as he felt the delicate internal pulsing of her completion, he let himself slip sensuously over the edge.
* * * *
Hot, blue eyes were roaming over her body when Camille awoke later that morning. Nathan had pulled back the sheet so he could admire her unclothed in the full light of day. Camille stretched languidly under his gaze, raising her arms so that her breasts lifted enticingly. Inside she marvelled at her behaviour, it wasn't at all like her to exalt in her physical form. The power of sex, she mused.
"What are you smiling at?” Nathan's eyes were on her breasts where he ran a slow finger around each globe before moving his attentions to the nipple.
"The mysteries of biology.” She smiled at him and then gasped as he tweaked her right nipple. He lowered his head for a taste and Camille drew a hand to the back of his dark head to hold him as he took the nipple into his mouth, sucking powerfully until she moaned with pleasure.
Chapter Twelve
It was another half an hour before they surfaced again. Nathan rolled onto his back, threw a hand over his eyes and groaned ruefully before something struck him and he bolted upright in bed, the sheet slipping down to his waist.
"Shit! What's the time?” He leaned over Camille to pick up his wristwatch from the bedside table. He held it up and sighed with relief. “It's just after seven."
"What time do you have to be at work?” Camille slipped out of bed and into her robe.
"Eight, but I'll ask our young bloke, Jason, to cover for me."
Stark naked, he walked over to where his pants lay on the floor, retrieving his cell from the pocket. He turned to the window as he quickly dialed a number.
"Jase? Listen, mate, sorry to call you on your day off. Something's come up. I'm going to get into the station late today so I'm wondering if you can cover for me this morning. I don't want Michael there alone in case anything urgent crops up."
He listened for a minute, nodding. “Thanks, mate. I'll be there by ten unless I call. See ya."
Camille averted her eyes from where she had been admiring the powerful muscles of his shoulders and thighs. His skin was a shade or two darker than hers as if he sunbaked in the nude but she suspected it was just his natural coloring.
"We need to talk,” he said.
Camille nodded. This was the moment she had been dreading. “We can talk over breakfast. Are you hungry?"
"Don't go to any trouble."
"It's no trouble. I can make toast and scrambled eggs, and there's plenty of fruit. Just give me a minute."
Camille slipped into the bathroom and then stuck her head around Elizabeth's door. The baby's eyes were still closed but she was snuffling and wriggling, it wouldn't be too long before she began yelling for attention.<
br />
By the time she had juice poured and the eggs cooking on the stove, Nathan had showered and dressed. He came up behind her, not touching her. When he didn't say anything, Camille turned to face him. His powerful forearms were crossed at his chest, his face dark with his morning beard.
"You could have used my razor to shave,” she said.
"It's pink!” He sounded miffed and Camille laughed.
He wolfed down the breakfast she put in front of him and got up to make coffee while she finished her eggs. She rarely ate a cooked breakfast but for some reason she was starving this morning. She thought she knew why and hugged the thought to herself. Nothing to inspire an appetite like a night of sex.
Nathan bought the pot over and sat down again. He looked at her intently.
"Camille, like I said last night, I was a jerk before. I can help you."
"I've broken the law, Nathan. And you're supposed to uphold it. What position does that put you in? You were right before, you have no choice but to take me in or destroy your career."
"It's not always so black and white. If I can't help, then maybe others can. You can't keep running."
"I can if it means Elizabeth and I stay safe for another day, another week."
"And is it fair on Elizabeth to drag her from place to place every time you think he's found you. How long can it go on? What about when she goes to school? How long is your money going to last?"
They were the brutal questions that Camille had pushed away every time they tried to swarm her brain. She hated that Nathan was using them against her, and pulled herself out of his arms. “Eventually he'll get bored of the chase. He'll give up.” There was bravado in her voice but it was all show. Malcolm Lord wasn't the type to give up.
"Is he?” Nathan's voice was softer. “Is he really going to give up on his daughter?"
"Maybe.” Camille folded her arms around her waist, hugging herself against the night air. “I have to believe it."
As soon as she heard herself say the words, it reminded her of the promise she'd made to Rowan to believe in her own strength, to believe in her ability to defeat Lord. She closed her eyes and took herself back to that candlelit ritual in the forest, how she'd watched as Rowan had called on her Wiccan Goddess to protect them and their loved ones. Camille had even held the athame, the short dagger, and felt the comfort of its strength in her hand.